Stars: The Last Pride
by The Dishwasher
Summary: Derived from TLK. Basically, this is the story of the Last Royal Family, in no particular order. Mist and Rain are King and Queen. Solo is their one and only cub. This series, Stars, concentrates on the lives of these lions, and although this is in no par
1. Stars

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Lion King, but I really want to! The best movie ever made!!! Mist, Solo and Rain, and anyone else that is not in the Lion King or any further sequel/spin offs, all belong to me. 

**Author's Note:** Thanks to www.lionking.org for confirming the script. I have taken bits out, et cetera, but that's fanfic for you! (I can recount most of the script though! I only wanted to verify some words!) 

**Summary:** Mist, the recently widowed Lion King tells his son a story of the old times, when Simba was the king. Will his son believe? 

*** 

**Stars**

Mist smiled as he watched Solo gaze thoughtfully at the stars. The little cub was a vivid yellow, very much unlike the pale Mist and Rain.  
Rain, sighed Mist sadly, and momentarily shut his eyes. He and Rain had everything, until one day she had lost it all. Her watery eyes, her dark, moody fur still threw Mist into chaos of sadness that he could hardly bear. Rain was beautiful. Rain was no longer with him. 

"Papa," said a small voice, full of energy despite the late hours, "Papa, what are the stars made of?" 

Mist tore from his memories to look at his inquisitive son. Solo was gazing at his father in awe, for Mist was a wise lion, and surely knew everything that there was to know.  
Mist shrugged. 

"I don't know. They just are." 

Solo suddenly felt unwanted, and he chocked back a cry. Guilt bit into Mist painfully, and he at once turned to coax the cub. 

"I apologise, Solo. No, don't cry. Big lions don't cry." That was hypocritical of him. All lions cry. He remembered finding Rain. Telling Solo. Watching Solo say goodbye to his mother, but she was long gone by then. Her liquid eyes stared blankly, unseeing, and Solo was too ignorant to notice the red-stained grass. 

"Don't cry, my son. Would you like to know what the stars are made from?" 

Solo sniffed, and looked up to Mist with a hopeful air. 

"What my father once told me was that the Great Kings of the past are those stars. They will always guide you, and even though you may feel lonely, they will be with you forever." 

"Is Mama a star too?" 

"Yes. All the great lions that had to go away are stars, to eternally watch over their loved ones." 

Solo tilted his head far back, and vigorously scanned the sky. 

"Where? Which star is she?" 

Now Mist tipped his head back, and searched the heavens with his grey, intense eyes. 

"That one over there. Yes, that's right. That bright star, the one that just twinkled. That's your mother." 

Solo smiled satisfactorily, and then doubt crossed his mind. 

"Are you telling me the truth, Papa? Are the stars really lions? Is Mama really up there?" 

"Of course," Mist reassured. 

"How do you know?" Solo was a very curious cub. 

Mist sighed, and thought back to a time when he was Solo's age. The time of carefree days, when his father and mother looked after him, when he played with the other cubs in the pride. At night, his father used to tell him stories about the old times, before the Humans settled in the vicinity. 

"Do you remember of me telling you the story of King Simba?" asked Mist, recalling a favourite tale of his childhood. 

"Yes," nodded Solo affirmatively, and crawled up onto his father's warm back. 

"Have I ever told you what it was that made Simba return home?" 

The yellow cub furrowed his brows in thought. 

"Was is the Queen Nala who had come to tell him that he was needed?" guessed Solo. 

Mist shook his head for no, and his magnificent mane fell about his face. 

"Let me tell you what it was that Simba saw that made him return. Maybe then you shall see for yourself whether or not Great Kings of the past are really up on the stars.  
Simba had just come away storming after an argument with Nala. She told him he had to go back, but how could he? He was responsible for the death of his father. He was banished from the Pridelands. He could never set foot in there again. It would mean facing his pride. His mother. He was not capable of doing that at all…" 

"She thinks she can just show up and tell me what to do!" paced Simba angrily under the dark sky. "She's wrong. I can't go back."  
The lion's thoughts switched to his days at his home, when his father was alive. On a night such as this, Mufasa had told his son that he would be with him forever, as the stars.  
"You said you'd always be there for me!" he yelled angrily to the deserted sky, half expecting a reply. A beat. Another. "But you're not…"  
Admitting defeat, Simba lowered his head in shame and pain.  
"And it's because of me. It's my fault…"   
His mane tumbled down in waves of grief.  
"It's my fault…"  


Tears cascaded down his face, and one by one they fell into the grass carpeting the ground. 

Asante sana!  
Squash banana!  
We we nugu,  
Mi mi apana!  


Simba sighed, annoyed, at not being left alone to grieve on his own. He shifted his body into a standing position, and stalked away from the irritating sound. 

Finally finding a suitable place, a log bridging a pool of water, the rightful King flopped down onto the beam, exhausted, and gazed sadly at his own reflection. The reflection of the killer. 

A stone shattered the liquid mirror, and crystal droplets scattered unevenly around the sombre lion. He snapped his head back to see what was going on. 

Asante sana!  
Squash banana!  
We we nugu,  
Mi mi apana!  


"Cut it out, enough already!" Simba breathed angrily. Now was not a good time for anyone to bother him.  
The intruder was a monkey. A baboon, to be exact.  
"Can't cut it out. It'll grow right back! Ha ha ha!"  


Simba realised he was dealing with a deranged animal. He rolled his eyes, and began to softly pad away. The baboon followed, humming the chant under his breath. 

"Creepy little monkey," barked Simba, "Will you stop following me? Who are you?"  
The baboon seemed undeterred, and in an instant he reversed the role.  
"The question is: Who are you?"  


Simba was taken aback by the primate's foolishness. "I thought I knew," he formulated, "Now I'm not so sure." 

The monkey leaned in close to the lion's ear, "I know who you are. It is a secret Asante sana! Squash banana!"  
Simba's patience wore thin, and he was not in the best of moods.  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  


The monkey smiled mischievously.  
"It means you are a baboon, and I'm not!"  


The golden lion turned his back to the baboon, and once more attempted to move away.  
"I think you're a little confused."  


Rafiki raised an eyebrow. "Wrong. I am not the one who's confused, you don't even know who you are!"  
"I suppose you do…" muttered Simba sarcastically.  
"You're Mufasa's boy," smiled the baboon, and took off.  


Simba froze in shock. Did this mean that the monkey knew who he was? Did he know that it was all Simba's fault? The lion speedily chased after the visitor. 

Rafiki was meditating upon a rock when Simba finally caught up. "You knew my father?" he panted.  
"Correction – I know your father." 

Sadness wrapped Simba in its grey blanket. "I hate to tell you this," he revealed, "But he died. A long time ago." 

Rafiki had shifted, and looked at Simba. "No. He's alive, and I will show him to you. You follow old Rafiki," the baboon told the bewildered lion, "He knows the way! Come on!" 

Simba found himself running after the surprisingly agile monkey through the undergrowth. His father, alive? How could that be? Suddenly, Rafiki stopped, and motioned for Simba to do the same. They had come out into the still air now, and Simba felt more and more anxious with each second. 

The baboon parted some reeds and pointed ahead. "Look down there." 

The strong, brave lion named Simba found himself shivering. He took a deep, filling breath, and walked to the edge of the bank. What met him was a lion, with a full mane, and large, anticipative eyes.  
Simba's small smile fell, and the lion copied it. It was all a lie.  
"That's not my father, it's just my reflection."  


"No," disagreed Rafiki, and touched the surface of the water with his index finger, "Look harder."  
To Simba's surprise, it was no longer his mirror image in the pool, but that of a majestic, proud lion.  
His father. 

"You see," explained the shaman, "He lives in you." 

The rising wind blew Simba's mane away from his face, and his eyes got bigger, and his mouth was ajar. In the heavens, the clouds moved to produce his father, gracefully stepping from the starry multitude, looking down at Simba with a slight air of disappointment. Mufasa was ghostly, made up from the soft cloud, shaded in grey and pale melancholy tones. The vision moved closer to the child he never really got to know. 

"Simba…" 

"Father?" Water prickled the young lion's eyes, he felt as though he was still a cub, safe in his home. He could not believe the fact that he did not believe that Mufasa was still with him. 

"Simba, you have forgotten me." 

Denial. That was not true. There was not a single day the lion would not pine over the death of his father. The pain seemed to dull, but at this instant it was brought up again.  
"No!" he answered the Great King, "How could I?" 

"You have forgotten who you are, and so you have forgotten me. Look inside yourself Simba, you are more than what you have become." The image of Mufasa regained colour, and the Great King's mane swirled with the haze in the midnight blue as his fur radiated with the most dazzling sunlight. The dead King lying ever still in the dust of the gorge was nothing like the might of this regal beast.  
"You must take your place in the Circle of Life." 

His father's teaching of the delicate balance that each king must respect. They die and become grass, and the antelope devour the grass. They are all connected, and yet Simba could not confront his past. 

"How can I go back?" pleaded the son of the Great King. In a smaller voice he admitted, "I'm not who I used to be." 

"Remember who you are," thundered his father, and Simba realised what it was that he had been running from. His heritage. His responsibility. He felt a pang of guilt as he recalled arguing with Nala. What have I done? The lion thought painfully. What have I done?  
"You are my son, and the one true king," echoed Mufasa's ghost in the roaring atmosphere. The peak of the vision was over, and the powerful lion who was afraid of nothing but losing his son was fading rapidly into the clouds, sky and stars. The light shone no more. 

Simba was shaken: how could his father just leave him, after so long? 

"No, please, stay with me!"  
He rushed into the dark green fields in a futile attempt to chase the near gone image.  


"Remember…" 

Simba slowed to a stop. "Father!" he exclaimed in one last attempt to make the image stay. 

"Remember…" The wind fell to a silent stillness. 

The skies rumbled, and the lonely lion was left gazing solemnly at the heavens, speckled with glittering stars. His father was always with him, every step of the way, guiding him from those stars. He was always there, as long as Simba lived. The memory of the Great King would forever live in him, and his mother… Simba wanted to see Sarabi again. He missed his home, and the feeling grew until he could no longer contain it within his mighty stature. Scar… Scar had ruined everything Simba held dear. 

The lion's mind was made up. He was returning. He was going back. 

"…And so it was that the King Simba returned, to take back what was rightfully his. What do you think, Solo?" 

Solo contemplated the story. It seemed plausible enough. He descended from his father's pale back, and sat to face Mist. "Well," he began, "I suppose it's true, then. But why have I not seen Mama? Why has she not come forward from the stars?" 

Mist sighed, "I don't know, Solo. Perhaps she will, someday, but I just don't know." 

The two lions, a young father who was unsure of how to raise a cub, and his son, the inquisitive lively Solo, flattened the grass around them and settled sown to sleep. 

A beam of light crossed the sleeping felines, and grew dull. A lioness stood, admiring her mate and her child. She was Rain, and her fur glittered as the droplets from the sky themselves. 

"Oh Gods, I love you both," she sighed, and shut her watery ashen eyes, which whirled with dark, overcast grey. They were what earned her her name. The ghost nuzzled in turn Mist, and then Solo. "We shall meet, but ere that time I will council you. Both of you." She gazed at them for the last time that night, in the form of the creature that she used to be. "Until we meet again…" 

Rain grew fainter, until she was not there anymore. She watched over her family from the stars, and she was pleased, in a bittersweet way, that her son knew she would be with them forever. 

The lions on earth had calm dreams that night, where Rain was with them once more. 

Only the stars glistened in the above, fireflies, stuck to that big, dark, blue thing. Only the stars. 

*** 


	2. Rain

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lion King, but I really want to! The best movie ever made!!!  Mist, Solo and Rain, and anyone else that is not in the Lion King or any further sequel/spin offs, all belong to me. 

**Author's Note:** Derived from TLK. Basically, this is the story of the Last Royal Family, in no particular order. Mist and Rain are King and Queen. Solo is their one and only cub. This series, Stars, concentrates on the lives of these lions, and although this is in no particular order, the end will be the end. It is NOT the end yet (i.e. I will end it when I have exhausted all the ideas I have)

**Summary:** This is what happened to Rain.

***

Rain 

Rain watched the horizon with her moody eyes. Not a creature stirred in the savannah, and the wind was dead.

"The dry season will be long," she sighed, informing the lion next to her. His movements caused his pale fur to ripple, and reflect moonlight.

"How did you know I was there?" he asked, for Mist had intended to stalk behind Rain and surprise her.

"I know," she replied simply, and turned her eyes to the sky. "No rain will come. The animals will die and we shall starve."

Mist lay beside her and spoke reassuringly, "We'll pull through, Raye," he said, calling her by her nickname, "Remember the drought of two years ago? It was bad, wasn't it? And yet here we are, against all odds.

Rain looked down, "This will be worse than any in history. It will be harsher than that of Scar's reign. Besides, you're forgetting," she snapped at Mist with her last words, "Two years ago, we did not have a son!"

Mist turned to where Solo and the rest of the pride dozed. What Rain had said was true: they may pull through, but Solo was most likely to –

Mist looked to his mate.

"We'll pull through. We'll all pull through."

Rain remained silent. She did not believe it.

Weeks rolled by, and rain did not appear. The heavens were a cloudless azure, and the heartless sun parched the Earth, baked it dry. Grasses withered, and antelope died, and the rains still did not come.

Rain's hunting party met up with that of Ash's. Between them, the seven lionesses caught nothing, they _found_ nothing, and were yearning for water.

"We will look for water," breathed Rain heavily, and led the lionesses in search of the cool substance of life. Ash concluded the party, and her beige pelt gleamed in the dry atmosphere.

In the meantime, Mist was looking at Solo with concern. The little cub had made it this far, but he was thirsty and hungry, and he wanted his mother.

"She'll be here soon, and the others too. They shall bring food. A zebra, perhaps, or a gazelle. Would you like that?"

Solo nodded weakly.

Mist found the gaze of Smoke, Rain's mother, an old and respected lioness who was too old to hunt. She rested in the shade of a dead tree, and licked her dry lips.

"It's bad," she whispered hoarsely, "They will return with nothing." Solo did not hear. It was intended that way.

The lionesses returned, with no food, but their thirst quenched. They had indeed come across a pool of water, muddy and scarce, but water all the same and they lapped it up greedily. Rain nuzzled her mate, and lifted Solo up by the scruff.

"I will give him some water. Are you thirsty?"

Mist looked straight at Rain, and lied through his eyes. Of course he wasn't thirsty. He said nothing, and Rain knew he lied, but she remained quiet too. It was pointless arguing with Mist.

That arid evening, Rain called a meeting, and with all of the pride's attention centred on her, she began to speak.

"Prey has gone. Dead, or left, it doesn't matter, but it's gone. There is no food for us, save a few small rodents that live below ground, and if we are lucky, dead corpses of gnu."

Her eyes brewed an angry dark cloud.

"We have one choice. We must take Man's cattle."

The lions roared up, some in protest, others supporting the idea. With a low rumble of a growl, all fell silent, for Smoke was about to speak.

"Generations ago, our ancestors made a pact, that as long as Lion dwells next to Man, he shall not take Man's food, for it breaks the respect. Droughts come and go, and some of you will not live to see the rains fall, but never will we take tame, padlocked cattle from Man!"

"I agree," added Mist, "Man does not take food from Lion, and Lion does not take food from Man. If Man finds out that we take his livestock, he will hunt us down."

"Have we no teeth and claws?" exclaimed an appalled Ash, "Are we not stronger than Man?"

"As King I have spoken," Mist said with an air of finality, "We search for food on our territory, and we do not take cows from Man. This is the end of the meeting."

The pride supported the King's decision, some more bitterly than others. Rain hung her head in hopelessness as she looked at Solo – weak, starving and hot. But her loyalty lay with the pride, and she did not go to the farms.

In the next week, the effects of the killing drought had started to take their toll. After a limited diet of rats and snakes, Rain lost her beloved mother. Smoke knew that she would not last to see the wet season, and was relieved to end the constant thirst. She was ready. Ash, on the other hand, was not. Death came to her as a surprise, and not up to the very last second did Ash ever understand.

The others were hungry and thirsty, and Rain's grief of losing her mother ate away at her heart each time she saw her golden cub. He was so weak now he could hardly move.

The acid sun set beneath the mountains, the sky a mass of blood red, cloudless and raw. Rain's eyes rested in the distance, she listened and she prayed. Behind her the remainder of the pride was unaware of the conflict she had inside her head. The Law was laid down back in the days of Sarabi, the powerful lioness who kept the faith during the tyranny of Scar. Who was Rain to break generations of traditions? 

"Raye!" called out Mist, who was lying down beside his son, "Raye, come here and sleep. You need all the energy you can get."

The crimson of the setting star reflected in her eyes for a brief moment before she turned away and went to her mate.

She could have cried when she saw what had become of Solo. The poor cub was all skin and bones, parched from the heat. His breathing was shallow and inaudible. Rain shared a look with the King, but he failed to comfort her with his words. He doesn't believe it either, she understood finally, He doesn't think that Solo will survive.

"The rains do not come," she choked out from her bone-dry throat.

"You must stay strong," replied Mist, too worried and exhausted to say much more.

"Solo is dying," Rain announced upon exhaling hot breath. She felt her partner's head rub against her neck. Mist stayed silent, for he could not deny the hard truth: that there wasn't much time left for their son.

"Sleep," he whispered as he turned to look away.

The moon was high up when Rain's eyes fluttered open. She had an awful dream of her son's death, and she couldn't distinguish whether it was fear or premonition. Rain had the gift of foretelling the weather, and to some extent the future. She could tell when the herds would move, and when the sun will shine. Each night since the drought started she would face the sunset, and she would look for a sign of an end to the heat. She found none.

She looked at Solo with pity and anxiety, for the cub was suffering, and she could do nothing to help him. Nothing apart from one thing.

Silently as the wind, the Queen crept away from the Pride, her mate and her child, and padded south to the farmlands.

The farms were an hour's walk away, but humans and lions kept their distance, and it was not often that either crossed the mutual border.

The lioness slinked through the tall grass under he dead night, the farms and the farm buildings in sight, and froze under the sound of human voices.

Men talked in their strange language for what seemed like forever, but really it was very brief. Her heart beat faster and faster, she could hear the thump loud in her ears, and she was sure the Men could hear it too. They couldn't. After they finished talking, they stepped inside the house.

Rain could see the white cattle easily, they stood in the deep green field lined with metal trenches filled with water. The cows were rather fat for the unfortunate season, and Rain studied them one by one, trying to see which she could catch best.

Time slowed to a halt as Rain snuck up toward her chosen prey. She put the remainder of her energy into her legs, took a deep breath and sprang forward. 

The cow she picked was standing away from the others, and it didn't even make a sound as she tightened her jaws around its neck. Warm liquid bathed her muzzle as she felt its life drain away. It was over.

Mist awoke suddenly, and first stared intently at Solo, who was still breathing. He then looked for Rain, relieved that his son was still alive, but within seconds realised that she was gone. He shook one of the lionesses to get her to wake up. 

"Where is Rain," he demanded, with a worried expression on his face.

Rain carefully dragged the cow under the barbed fence, when a shrill bark tore through the silence. It was Man's tame hyena. It barked again and again, and Rain saw the lights flicker on in the house. The cattle herd now realised what had occurred, and were mooing stupidly, pressing the earth with their hooves. The lioness gripped the cow hard and ran. 

Some human shouting and a loud bang followed, and she heard something whiz past her. There was a smell of singed fur, and she barely understood what was going on. Putting her last efforts into her body, she ran even harder. 

Another bang, and this time there was a pain in her side, sharp and burning. Nonetheless, she kept running. There were a few more bangs, but she was too far away for the bullets to reach her. The Men had evidently given up pursuit, and only the distant barking of their tame hyena, their dog, reached Rain's ears.

Her head became heavier, and it was hurting her to breathe. Her veins were pumping fire round her body, and her legs felt as though they were made of lead. She must have been running for a while now. The cow was a dead weight in her grasp, but she wouldn't drop it. Not now. There, up ahead, she saw Mist. He wasn't supposed to find out, she thought miserably, Now he will be angry with me, but what I did was for Solo's sake. So that he may not die.

Mist saw Rain run up towards him, but there was evidently something wrong. It was in the way she moved, and not just because she carried a cow.

"Rain, what did you do?"

She walked up to him, and put her kill on the ground.

"I'm sorry," she panted, "I didn't want to do this, but Solo…" Rain looked at Mist with her large eyes, full of pain but also hope, "I went to the farms. But look, I killed a cow, and now there is a chance that our son will live."

"Were you seen?" he asked, nuzzling her.

"Only at the end. But I ran, and they couldn't catch me. Their _dog_," she pronounced that word with disgust, "Their _dog_ raised the alarm."

Mist watched Rain as she talked. Something was definitely wrong.

"Well," he said finally, "Let's go home. Are you alright?"

"Oh yes," she replied, "I'm only dreadfully tired."

The lioness took a step forward and collapsed.

Mist was with her immediately, and as he looked her over horror materialised on his face. She had been shot. There was an awful wound at her side, and even in the colourless night he could see the grass on which she lay bleed red.

"Rain!" he almost shouted, devastated at the thought that she was going to leave him, "Oh Raye, what have you done?" 

She lifted her head up to face him, and she stared into his eyes, her own sparkling like dewdrops on the grass of dawn, or stars in the midnight velvet of the heavens.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean to upset you. I wanted to stay and see our son grow and become king, I wanted to stay beside you and be with you and love you, but I made a mistake, didn't I?"

He rubbed her head with passion and sadness all mingled into a feeling that Mist had never experienced before.

"Don't go," he whispered, tears falling down his face, "Don't leave me…don't die…"

Her eyes shifted to the starry sky above, and she smiled.

"The rains are coming. You are all saved. The rains come."

"I will love you forever, Rain," he promised, "I will always love you."

"I will watch you from the stars," she murmured, "You and Solo. But now the rains come."

Her heavy eyelids fell shut, and the King sat by the side of his Queen for a long time. She had given her life to save their son and the pride, and she would watch them from the stars. For the moment, the stars watched the King in despair, pacing around the body of his mate, and the stars shook when he roared to show his grief.

Rains did indeed come the following day, and they stayed, and the land was fertile and alive, and Solo got stronger. Mist was pleased to see the rains, but his own Rain was gone.

***


End file.
